Have a Drabble!
by MWolfe13
Summary: A place to put the start of hopefully many drabbles for Hermione's Haven FanFiction group, and other drabbles people might request. All involve Hermione, of course. Latest Pairing: Hermione x Percy Weasley
1. March 26, 2019-Wrecking Ball

**This starts my collection of Drabble's for Hermione's Haven FanFiction group. I'm hoping to do one at least once a month. Drabble's won't be more than 1000 words. The latest Drabble posted will reflect the pairing in the story description.**

**I hope you enjoy these small snippets!**

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**Prompt: Coffee Shop AU**

**Pairing: Hermione Granger x Seamus Finnigan**

**Words: 462**

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She rubbed her temples as the volume of angry voices grew louder in the popular cafe she loved to frequent. The espresso machine was broken, and while they said a tech guy was on his way, the morning commuters who were desperate for their fix were not understanding. Usually, Hermione loved the hustle and bustle of busy mornings. There was something about being surrounded by people while she worked that she found comforting and allowed herself to be productive. But this time, she was also without her addiction, having to settle for plain caffeine, and was not in the right mindset to listen to complaints all morning.

She wasn't paying attention. Neither was the man passing by her with a clunky toolbox. She was lifting her cup of coffee to her mouth when his toolbox swung up and knocked the cup out of her hand. It went sailing past her head, Hermione squeaking in surprise. There was cursing from behind her.

The man with the box of death turned towards her in surprise, the coffee killer almost hitting another customer behind him as he swung the thing with not a care in the world. Her astonished eyes met lively brown ones. "Whoa!" He exclaimed. "Didn't see you there!"

Hermione gave him a sharp grin. "Obviously."

He didn't falter, only showing his discomfort by rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Say, why don't I make it up to you? Coffee's on me."

The irritated voice of the manager called out from behind the counter. "There won't be any coffee if you don't hurry up and fix the machine! Quit your flirting Finnigan, and come do you your job!"

Her eyes slid to the normally frazzled man who ran this cafe and then back to the wrecking ball in front of her. "You'd better go before there's a riot," she murmured.

He was quite content to lean against her table. "In a bit," he agreed. "So whaddya say? Maybe instead o' coffee, we can do dinner."

"Finnigan!" The manager groaned.

Suddenly Hermione found the entire situation hilarious, and she wanted to burst into giggles. Here they were, holding up the salvation for most of the people waiting impatiently and the cute repairman didn't care. His attention was strictly on her, his eyebrows raised as if daring her to say no.

Giving him a small shrug, she turned back to her computer. "We'll see how I feel after coffee."

"A stubborn lass," he laughed. "I like it. Seamus."

"Hermione."

"Damn it, Finnigan!"

"Expect your coffee soon," Seamus promised her. He walked away, whistling a jaunty tune and patting the manager on the back as if he hadn't ignored the man's calls.


	2. April 20, 2019-Wrong

**April 20, 2019 RAD**

**Extremely late, but *shrugs***

**Warning for violence.**

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**Pairing: Hermione x Neville**

**Theme: Twisted Fairytale: Rapunzel**

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Where had it all gone wrong?

Neville led the company of men assigned to him to lead the charge against the enemy in the once-abandoned tower. There were ten in total, all older battle-hardened men the King had handpicked to subdue the creature they hunted.

To kill his daughter.

The Princess Hermione had been his best friend, _was _his first and most important friend. They'd grown up together, faced their trials together, shared their triumphs with each other. Never in his deepest fears and thoughts had he thought he'd be in this position. He'd dreamed of becoming the most respected knight in the realm. One day he'd leave to destroy a monster threatening the lives of the citizens they both loved and maybe, just maybe, the Princess would see him as more than her childhood friend when he came back victorious.

It was all wrong now. The monster was the Princess, and he'd been sent to destroy her.

The tower was one of the oldest buildings in the country; evidenced by the sun-bleached stone and the uncontrolled vine growing through the cracks. No one remembered who had once owned it or why it had been built. For as long as Neville could remember, the imposing structure had been a forbidden place that he and Hermione would escape to when the princess was tired of her lessons. He remembered being so scared of the deserted tower at first before they had turned it into a cherished retreat.

Those memories were tarnished by what his princess had become, but Neville should have known this was the place she chose to run to. It gave him a tiny amount of hope, even though he knew it shouldn't, that his Hermione was still in there somewhere.

They discovered the entrance to the tower was sealed, the only other entry at the top where a single large window rested. Neville had been prepared for this outcome and gave his men the order to start climbing. There were plenty of handholds for the soldiers to climb, but they used special axes to make their way up. They knew every man would be needed to bring her down. Falling to their deaths was not an option.

Neville was the last to reach the window, staying at the bottom of everyone else in the event someone _did _slip. The men were looking above their heads with fearful expressions. Neville could understand why. Piles of hair hung over them like one big spider web, the brown strands moving with the breeze and almost crackling with magic. The stories of soft strands coiling like snakes and striking with precision had struck fear into many. It was said that once the evil monster had you in her grasp, her hair squeezed until your brains leaked out of your ears. He and his company had passed a decimated village not far from here, one where all the adult men had been hung from a tree by silky brown hair, their eyes bulging from the sockets in death.

It had not been a pretty sight.

Princess Hermione was nowhere in sight, but she was around, watching them. Steeling himself, Neville unsheathed his sword, ready to do his duty to his kingdom.

They failed. Miserably.

Neville watched helplessly, hands bound on either side of him while hair he'd once ran his fingers through circled his neck and forced his head forward. The last of the men that came with him struggled on the ground, struggling feebly as he was strangled without mercy. He couldn't imagine the thoughts running through that soldier's head, the terror he must feel in his final moments. He closed his eyes when the man's body stopped jerking, eyes lolling to the side with fear still on his features.

It was his turn. He was the only one left.

His eyes opened with resolution, maintaining his composure when he found Hermione staring at him. She was right in front of him, looking at him with her cold eyes, mouth pressed in a firm line.

"It was smart of him to send you," she commented. "If anyone was going to succeed in killing me, it might have been you." She smirked. "What was he hoping for? The mighty Neville would slay the creature he once professed he loved with all his heart?"

"I did love you," he said quietly. The hair around his neck tightened.

Her smirk fell. "You don't try and kill the ones you claim to love. You could have stood with me instead of my pathetic father."

"I made a vow, Mione." His use of her childhood nickname had them both flinching. "Never did I think you'd become one of the monsters from our storybooks." He glared at her.

Hermione sucked in a breath at his words, face blanking of all expression at his hateful gaze. She leaned forward until her mouth was by his ear. He could smell the combination of scents that were so uniquely Hermione, his heart aching that it was now associated with the corrupted woman before him. "You know the funny thing about storybooks? They never _once _explain how the villain came to be the big bad everyone fears. It _never _says how the good guys are not as good as everyone believes. The victor gets to dictate history, and I fully intend to be the _only _victor when this war is done."


	3. May 18, 2019-Brilliant

**What? Another RAD within the same month. It's a miracle.**

**May 18, 2019 HH RAD. I'm totally not months late or anything...**

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**Pairing: Hermione Granger x James Potter**  
**Themes: Coffee Shop AU, Creature**

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"Uh, Sir, Wizard's aren't supposed to drink-"

"Don't worry about it, Mate. Just put it on the side, yeah?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the familiar voice harassing their new staff member. She listened a little while longer, poor Allan trying to insist the git couldn't drink what he was ordering. _Oh! The nerve! _

She stormed out of the small office where she had sat hunched over the books, fingers sparking in annoyance. "James Potter! Stop bothering Allan!"

James' eyes widened at the sight of her, but he put his usual grin on his face. "Mione-love, didn't expect to see you here. I could have sworn Remus said you were helping his mum today."

Her eye twitched at the nickname. She had told him to stop calling her that! "My manager is sick, and the ledgers needed balancing. What are you doing here?"

He leaned against the counter, appearing as confident as he always did. "I'm here to get a drink. Isn't that what this cafe is for? To serve people when they're thirsty?"

Her brow raised at the challenge in his eyes. "Yes, of course." She glanced down at the order Allen had written out. "Great choice of drink, Mister Potter. I'll get started on your frozen caramel coffee."

She could see the wince he tried to hide, but James Potter was never one to back down. "Ah, don't forget the fairy dust, to the side please."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh? I'm sure you're aware the dust isn't safe for Wizard's to consume. It's been proven to send the Witch or Wizard into a hallucinogenic state." She gestured to the menu hanging above them. "As you can see, we have taken the appropriate precautions to list different menus for different magical creatures that might frequent the shop. A topping of fairy dust is _not _on the Wizard's section."

James shrugged. "I'll take my chances. There's no blame on your part if I do something stupid."

"Merlin forbid anyone ever take the blame when you do something stupid," she muttered. "No one would escape punishment then." Hermione lifted her chin. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to refuse your order, Mister Potter. You can take a normal drink or go."

"Mione-love," James groaned, eyeing her pitifully.

Rolling her eyes in disgust, she lifted the opening at the counter and gestured for him to come through. She grabbed his hand as soon as he moved, dragging him to the small office and slamming the door with a burst of wandless magic. She turned to face him, dropping his hand and giving him a single arched look.

James sighed, "Alright, look-"

"I knew it!"

He held up his hands. "No one will ingest it, promise! We're just trying to start our last year with a bang, and we won't get dust anywhere else repudiable." He walked a little closer, taking her hand in his again. "Don't you want our House to go down as the best pranksters in Hogwarts history?"

"I'm a Ravenclaw," she deadpanned.

James snorted, "You're rightfully a lion, and you know it. Come on, love. A few people will hover, and the ghosts will have a blast. Please?"

His hazel eyes stared into hers, his glasses making them seem bigger than they were. They were pleading, his mouth quirking up in the tiniest of smiles. And just like that, Hermione found herself wavering. Damn James Potter! He always, _always _, knew how to get her to agree to anything.

"The Ravenclaws don't get picked on," she bargained.

"We can't exclude an entire house!"

Hermione shrugged. "That's my final offer."

James groaned, running his free hand through his messy hair. "You're killing me, Mione-love, but fine."

She grinned. "Perfect. I'll get you a vial later when I'm doing inventory."

He blew out a breath, giving her a small exasperated smile. "You know, I wouldn't give that good a deal out to just anyone. You know how to make me agree to anything you want."

Hermione snorted, raising her hand and pushing some of the hair from his face. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

He leaned in closer at her words. "Yeah? If that's the case, let me treat you to Florean's later."

"There's perfectly good ice cream here in the shop."

James sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Mione-love, just let me take you out, will you? We don't have to go to Fortescue's."

Hermione realized what he was trying to do, red blooming over her cheeks as his words sank in. "Oh…" She pushed some of her hair behind her ear, suddenly aware he was still holding her hand. Slowly, she grinned up at him. "Sure, I'll let you take me out. When you come pick up the vial?"

"Brilliant," James said in confirmation.

"Brilliant," she echoed. They stared at each other for a few minutes, neither saying a word. Then Hermione cleared her throat, ripping her hands from his and turning back to her abandoned books. "Well, I better get back to these if I want to go out later."

James nodded though her back was to him and couldn't see the motion. "Right." He turned to open the door. "I'll meet you later."

Hermione had just settled back down when James popped his head through the door. "Mione-love? This is a date, right?"

She couldn't help but giggle at his tone. "Yes, James, it's a date."

He grinned. "Brilliant."


	4. October 13, 2019-Fiery Redhead

**Hermione's Haven Roll-A-Thon! This is one of three rolls I asked for that day. HP Character Roll**

**Enjoy! Let me know what you think in the reviews!**

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**Character: Ginny Weasley**

**Trope: Coffee Shop AU**

**WC: 828**

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"Let me speak to your manager!"

That question, spoken in a high-pitched infuriated tone, was the first thing Hermione heard when she walked through the staff entrance of the cafe she owned. They were a tiny business, a hole in the wall type of shop that served good coffee, tea, and pastries. None of the locals would ever try and speak to a manager. They always asked for Hermione if they needed something.

Sighing-because really, why couldn't a customer let the employee try to fix their problem before running up the chain?-Hermione gave a quick wave to her baker before exiting the double doors that led to the front part of the shop. With any luck, she could satisfy the woman with a free drink and cookie.

The first thing she noticed was her hair; fire-engine red and flowing like fire down her back. She would never be mistaken for a local with her designer clothes, and pretty handbag. Her face, flushed with anger, was one of the prettiest Hermione had ever seen. She was also on the verge of punching her best worker if her clenched fists were anything to go by.

Hermione was stepping in to intervene when her eyes landed on the redhead's arm. Hives of different sizes decorated her delicate skin, the irritated bumps starting at her wrist and disappearing under the woman's shirt. Her eyes jumped to the other arm, noticing the same pattern, before creeping up to her neck and seeing the skin redden with each passing second.

Oh dear.

Concerned, Hermione inserted herself between the woman and her barista. "Ma'am! Are you-"

The woman cut her off with a wave of her hand. "I asked for the manager, not...whatever you are."

The barista gulped, slanting a glance at Hermione. "Uh… I don't think you realize-"

Hermione stopped the words with a look, her eyes blazing at the dismissive tone. All thoughts of how beautiful her irate customer was flew out the window. She put on her best company smile. "Lucky for you, I'm the owner. Why don't you come into my office, and we can discuss your problem." And get you some medicine.

Hermione gave the barista a reassuring nod before leading the woman to a door labeled 'office.' She went straight to her desk, opening a drawer and pulling out her emergency Benadryl. She handed the bottle over. "Here."

"Thank Christ, " the woman muttered in relief. She unscrewed the bottle, downing two pills before Hermione could offer her some water.

Hermione said, "I'm sorry about my barista. Normally, we're excellent about cross-contamination and food allergies."

"Oh…" The woman cleared her throat. "No, this wasn't caused by the cafe. I'm allergic to pollen, and it's _everywhere _right now."

Hermione was confused. "If that wasn't the case, why do you need a manager?"

"Ginny Weasley." She shot her hand out in invitation.

Hermione recognized the name, raising her brows as she shook her hand. "Hermione Granger. Holyhead Harpies, right? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Right. You see, last month, you came out with a drink labeled the Fiery Redhead."

Hermione instantly knew what she was talking about; the cinnamon concoction had been a huge hit with the locals and tourists. "Yes."

"The Harpies just signed a merchandising contract." Ginny leaned forward, her eyes sparking with excitement. "Fiery Redhead is about to be seen on any goods related to me."

"Not very original if you ask me," Hermione mused.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I know, but merchandise!" She frowned. "Only, before they could move forward, the lawyers informed them of your own trademark on the name. We've tried contacting you, but all attempts to communicate have failed." She bit her lip. "I decided to come see you myself, hoping your manager would know how best to reach you."

"And you needed to berate my poor employee, why?"

She sighed, "I have a temper. It's why the nickname fits."

Hermione snorted, "Okay. So what would you have me do?"

"Give up the rights to the name?"

Hermione barked out a startled laugh. She couldn't be serious. "Not bloody likely."

Ginny clapped her hands together, bringing them in front of her in a begging motion. "Please! We would change it ourselves, but production for items has already started."

She shrugged. "Guess it better stop then."

Ginny threw her hands in the air. "What can I do to convince you?"

"Take me to dinner," Hermione said. The words were out of her mouth before her brain had fully formed them. She instantly regretted it. Why give the woman hope when Hermione was not going to change her mind?

Ginny stood up straighter, shock clear on her face. "What…" Then she grinned. "Really? Sure, I'll take you out." She paused. "You do mean a date, right? I'm not misreading this?"

Hermione chuckled, "You're correct."

She brightened. "Sweet! I mean, I would have asked you out regardless, but two birds with one stone, yeah?"

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**AN: Is this similar to my previous RAD that I just posted? Yup. In my defense, every time Coffee Shop AU is on the dice, I roll it. I'm pretty sure my Muse is protesting at this point. **


	5. October 13, 2019-It's My Room!

**Written for Hermione's Haven Roll-A-Thon. This was the Crossover roll.**

**I recently received an PM asking if I was willing to write other pairing drabbles for this story, and I totally am! As long as they're paired with Hermione, I'm game.**

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**Crossover: Once Upon a Time**

**Trope: Bed Sharing**

**Character (My Choice): Killian Jones**

**WC: 687**

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Hermione exited the elevator, pulling her small suitcase along the carpeted halls of the hall. She'd had a very long flight, and she couldn't wait to throw herself onto the bed in her room and sleep. Tomorrow, there would be meetings and negotiations. She needed her brain to be in top form. Not that she couldn't function on little sleep, but her temper was always better when she hadn't pulled an all-nighter.

She swiped the keycard through the slot, watching the light turn green and hearing the little click that came with a door unlocking. She entered her room, leaving her luggage by the door. She'd deal with it in the morning. Her jacket came off next, and then her shoes. One by one, she discarded her clothes carelessly until she was in her underthings. Hermione had spent most of the day traveling and had went without the usual makeup and hair products that made up her everyday image. She was grateful for that now as it allowed her to crawl into bed without needing a trip to the bathroom.

The room was dark, the curtains pulled shut and only letting the faintest of moonlight through. She didn't see the other suitcase lying haphazardly on the floor, or the clothes thrown onto the chair. She definitely didn't notice the person-sized lump tangled in the sheets on the bed. Hermione crawled under the blanket, sleep claiming her as soon as her head hit the pillow.

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She woke groggily when her alarm went off, but made no move to get out of bed. She was warm, so very warm, and comfortable. Her body had molded into the mattress sometime during the night. The arm around her held her captive against a hard body, legs tangled with her own and a face buried in her hair.

Hermione stiffened.

She didn't remember bringing a man home with her last night. She wouldn't have. She'd been traveling non-stop to get to this city before today. There hadn't been time for her to chat up a man if she'd been so inclined. Hermione clearly remembered stumbling into her hotel room, stripping off her clothes, and falling into bed.

Struggling to stay calm, Hermione thought about how she could extract herself without waking the man up.

"So, you're finally awake."

Hermione screamed in surprise, the sound short and startled. She turned her body around within seconds, forgetting their legs were technically entangled with each other. Her knee shifted, rising higher, and then the man was groaning in pain. His eyes closed shut, and his arm pulled her closer as he attempted to arrange himself in a fetal position.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He groaned.

She attempted to wriggle out of his hold, but his other arm snaked around her and pulled her to his chest. "Don't move," he grit out.

Hermione decided to listen, the man clearly the stronger of the two of them. Her face was touching his bare chest, lips mere centimeters from touching skin. Slowly, his arms loosened around her, allowing her to pull free. She did, scooting as far she could and pulling the blanket up to her chest. "Who are you?" she asked again with more force.

"The man you just kneed in the balls," he answered. His eyes were still closed.

She huffed, "An accident, I assure you. What are you doing in my room?"

His eyes snapped open, revealing stormy blue iris'. "It's my room, love."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it isn't. And don't call me love."

"_ Love _," he said with a small smirk. "I've been here all week. I think I'd know what room I was assigned."

"My pass worked on the door," she insisted. "It can't possibly be your room. The hotel wouldn't give me an occupied room."

He shrugged. "And yet, here you are. I'd thank them, but you've hurt me where it counts."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a baby." She bit her lip, suddenly feeling guilty. "Did I really hurt you?"

His smirk widened. "Aye. Want to come kiss it better?"

She threw her pillow at him.


	6. October 13, 2019-The Plan

**The last of my roll's for Hermione's Haven Roll-A-Thon. This was the crackfic roll.**

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**Tropes: Marriage Law, Time Travel**

**Character (My Choice): Godric Gryffindor**

**WC: 907**

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She'd had a plan.

The Ministry of Magic would never cease to amaze her on how utterly ridiculous they could be. Some Arithmacer cries low-birth rates and extinction, and the leadership goes into a panic. Not only did they not conduct a more thorough study into the problem-maybe no one wanted to marry and start families just yet?-but they'd decided to enact an ancient, archaic law that never should have been created in the first place.

The Unification Law of 2000 was passed into law on a dreary day, a bad omen if one believed in such things. The meetings had been held within closed doors, the Wizengmont not allowing any information to leak until they were ready to splash the news all over the Daily Profit. It was not surprising when a majority of their population descended on the Ministry in protest. Harry and Ron had been hard-pressed to keep the public from rioting, seething in their own resentment towards the law. But even after all the protests and arguments, a few hexes thrown in for good measure, the Wizengmont was not willing to budge on the issue. Unification _would _happen, or the violators would be thrown in Azkaban.

So Hermione had formed a plan.

It had been so simple in her mind. She was an Unspeakable now, assigned to the Time Department due to her experience in the matter. Sometime during her late nights in the lab, stewing in her anger over their freedom being taken away, Hermione had realized that the Wizengmont was _only _able to pass this law based on precedence. The establishment of said law during the Founder's time was used heavily in the Wizengmont's favor. They'd created it then, and look how well our people prospered?

Rubbish. It was a different period where the mindset of the citizens was based on survival. There were no scars from war, or the need to live your life and make a difference. Most women were still under the control of their fathers and would have taken no issue with having their spouse dictated to them.

But what if the law was never passed?

There could be no standing argument for the law's success if it was never created in the first place. Hermione knew the spiral of her thoughts was not rational, but she was beyond such thinking at this point. Not when she was forced to marry someone not of her choosing. Not when her friends were counting on her to find a loophole in the legal work of the law. There hadn't been.

No, there was only one way to undo all this misery.

She was well-prepared. She'd forged passable papers modeled after those she found in the Ministry archive. She'd looked up the date of the first law, calculating how far she'd need to go in order to stop its creation. She'd arranged care for her beloved Crookshanks for the time being. Traveling this far back was unheard of, the consequences could be severe. Still, for her, the action was necessary.

During the night one day before Hermione would learn her match, she kicked everyone out of the Time Room. This was nothing new, so no one suspected a thing. Taking the single Time-Turner she'd been working on, Hermione looped the delicate chain around her neck. She was breaking about a dozen laws, and violating a few oaths she took when she'd become an Unspeakable, but she didn't care. She told herself this was what was best for everyone and disappeared through time.

Then her plan went to all hell.

The Time-Turner, never having been tested for such rigorous use, shattered upon Hermione landing in the past. Hermione didn't have time to think of the consequences as glaring men in concealing robes surrounded her; their wands pointed in her direction with suspicion. Time travel hadn't been invented yet, so she'd allowed them to take her into custody. She put up no fight when they took her bag, knowing all they would find was the papers she'd so carefully forged. Hermione was sure they would release her upon learning she had no criminal history or beef with the Ministry. How could she when she technically didn't exist yet?

Only, they didn't. Or at least, they didn't release her _in time _. Hermione was held under arrest in a dank prison cell for a week under supervision until they were satisfied she was no threat. By then, she was too late. All she could hear while they escorted her to the transportation office was the excited chatter of the new Marriage Law that would save their race from extinction. Hermione wanted to die right then and there. Her trip had been for nothing, and now she had no way back.

A week later, when the Ministry tracked her down at the residence she'd managed to acquire, Hermione realized her biggest mistake. In letting the Ministry of this time take the papers she'd ensured would pass any scrutiny, she had given them one more Witch to match under this stupid law. The letter waiting for her when she came back held her fate, one she could not escape from this time. Not when she was trying to search for a way back to her time.

With great trepidation, Hermione looked down at the name of her intended and gasped. Oh Merlin, what had she done?

Scrawled in flowy writing was the name Godric Gryffindor.

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**AN: This is vague and shows no action for Hermione and **Godric,** because the Muse came up with a story while I was trying to write this. Way too long to be a Drabble, so look out for it!**


	7. June 22, 2019-Not a Damsel

**Written for HH's RAD- June 22, 2019**

**Let me know what you think in the reviews!**

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**Pairing: Hermione x George W.**  
**Theme: Fake Dating**

**Summary: You were having some trouble with these guys, and I swooped in and saved the day, claiming to be your boyfriend. You didn't appreciate it in the least. Go out with me**?

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Hermione was walking to her flat after a long day at work, minding her own business, when they stopped her.

She leveled a questioning stare at the man with a hand on her arm. He was openly leering at her, eyes roving down her body and up again slowly. His friends were snickering as they watched, all had this slightly glazed look in their eyes.

Great. She was dealing with men who had already been into the cups!

"Hey, pretty lady," the man spoke. "Are you oxygen? Because you've taken my breath away."

Hermione rolled her eyes and prayed for patience. That didn't even make sense! "Kindly remove your hand, Sir. The day has been long, and there's a good glass of wine waiting for me at home."

He laughed, "Wine sounds great! Of course I'll join you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Certainly not." She'd give him one more chance. "Please-"

"Love, there you are!"

Hermione looked incredulously at the man who looped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. He gave the annoyance in front of her a small glare. "Let go of my girl, mate."

To her dismay, he backed off with both hands in the air. "Sorry, mate. Didn't know she was spoken for." He turned and walked away, pulling his two snickering friends along. She could hear them mocking him for his failure as they turned a corner.

"Oh, of course," she muttered in disgust. "All it takes is for another man to stake a claim for him to leave me alone. It doesn't matter what I want."

Her 'rescuer' let go of her waist, giving her an easy grin. "Some men are idiots. They can't tell when a bird has no interest."

All at once, her ire turned on him. She put her hands on her hips, giving him a fierce glare. "And who do you think you are? I had the situation handled. One more warning and I could have kneed him in the bollocks with no remorse!"

He looked taken aback. "I'm George Weasley, and it didn't look handled by my eyes. He wasn't going to let go."

"He would have," she assured him. "He was already a little drunk."

"Oh." He grinned. "What's your name?"

"Hermione," she said cautiously.

His eyes brightened at her uncertain reply. "Well Hermione, I like you. How about we go out on a date?"

She rolled her eyes. Really? "Look, I-"

"I promise I haven't been drinking," he said hurriedly. "Just one date, yeah? We can do whatever you want."

She opened her mouth to let him down, firmly this time, but then stopped. He _had _come to her rescue, even though she was no damsel. He was looking at her like he wouldn't give up if she said no. Where was the harm in accepting? She sighed, "Just one date?"

He nodded. "To start."

Hermione gave him a tentative smile, looping her arm through his. "Lead the way then."


	8. August 24, 2019-The Best Lie

**Written for HH Roll-A-Drabble. August 24, 2019**

**Two Weasley Fake Dating tropes back to back? *Shrugs* Can't control the dice. At least it wasn't Coffee Shop AU**

**Let me know what you think in the reviews!**

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**Pairing: Percy x Hermione**  
**Trope: Fake Dating**

**Summary: They teased you mercilessly, and I decided to intervene. Best decision I ever made.**

**WC: 733**

* * *

Hermione heard them as she was leaving the archives at the Ministry.

"Poor Weasley, do you think he'll be able to beg someone to go with him to the party?"

"Please, I bet he'll beg off, citing some excuse. Who would give him the time of day? I'd take any of his brothers over him."

"No, I'd take the Dragon Tamer over him. I hear he's still single. Though if the Curse Breaker wanted to give it a go… I'd risk it."

Hermione fumed at their words. Who did they think they were? Percy Weasley was a perfectly nice man. So what if he preferred books and work to other dangerous pursuits? He didn't have to fit the adventurous mold this generation of Weasley's was becoming well known for.

Before she could stop herself, Hermione made her way to the group of idiots laughing at her friend's expense. "I wouldn't if I were you. His wife's a Veela, you know."

One lifted their hands in surrender. "Didn't mean any harm by it, Granger. We were just teasing."

She glared. "Well, maybe your teasing is better off abandoned. The Dragon Tamer doesn't take kindly to any insults to his family. In fact, he's rather put off by them."

"What's it to you, Granger? Have a thing for the bookish one? I'll admit, the two of you would be perfect for each other."

And suddenly, she was struck by inspiration.

She lifted her chin slightly in the air. "As a matter of fact, I do. Percy and I have been together for a couple of years now." She knew this wouldn't be contested too badly. As far as she knew, Percy hadn't attempted to date anyone since his disastrous end with Penelope Clearwater.

There was shock and slight disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Hermione turned away, trying to remember where Percy could be found at this time. His office hopefully. "We value our privacy, and this _is _our place of work. If only everyone else could be as professional."

Lucky for her, Percy was in his office, back hunched over a piece of parchment, his glasses falling to the tip of his nose. He looked up, startled, when Hermione accidentally slammed the door too hard. "Hermione, what-"

"I am so sorry," Hermione wailed as she threw herself into the seat in front of him. She was already regretting her hasty defense. "I just got so mad, and how could they _think _-"

Percy placed a hand on her mouth. Hermione hadn't even realized he'd come around the desk until the feel of his palm against her lips struck her silent. He removed his hand. "There. Now, what's going on? Is it Ron?"

She shook her head. "There were these clerks, idiots really, who were talking about you. They mentioned this party and how you probably didn't have a date."

Percy sighed, "I'm not fond of parties."

"I know that, but they were so disrespectful, and I suddenly lost it…" Hermione bit her lip. "I might have told them we've been seeing each other for a few years now."

Percy stared at her. Ron would have sputtered and blushed, George would have laughed, but Percy just looked at her and didn't say anything.

Hermione cleared her throat, jumping to her seat. "Right. I'm sure that bit of gossip will die down in no time." Who was she kidding? The gossip mill never died down when it came to her. "Look, we can have a public row right in the atrium and break up, or I can just come out and say I lost my mind for two seconds-"

Then Percy was covering her mouth again, amusement in his eyes. "Are you free for the party then?"

Eyes wide, Hermione nodded.

* * *

**1 Year Later**

Hermione thought about that day as she lay in her husband's arms on the last night of their honeymoon. Percy brushed a kiss over the top of her head. "I can hear you thinking from here."

She smiled, pressing her nose against his chest. "I was just remembering the day I told everyone we were dating when we weren't."

Percy chuckled, "I remember. I was in such a state of shock, I sat at my desk and did nothing productive for the rest of the day."

Hermione grinned up at him, reaching up to press a quick kiss to his chin. "Best lie I ever told."


End file.
